We all suffer from some kind of letdown after the holiday fanfare that seems to go on forever. I'm not different. I'm spending the weeks after the holidays preparing for the last ever Gonzo's Nose show, and I'm nostalgic but so far dry eyed.
Then...this came into my inbox:
Jean sent it to me, as we are all unearthing photos related to the band getting ready for the show. She said the caption in her photo album says "Connor's first Gonzo's Nose gig, 6/23/04"
January makes us tentative now. We're never sure where our heads will be, if it will be extra hard between 2/1 and 2/9 or just normal hard.
This photo makes me cry and makes me so happy. I'm wearing a shirt my dad gave me that I think is still in my closet, and a smile that makes it all the way to my eyes. It's two months after Connor's diagnosis here, and he's out, and looks so healthy (thanks, steroids!) and he's LOOKING AT ME while I'm feeding him.
It's so real, and so normal, and I look happy. Because I was happy. Even though he'd just been told that he had no chance, and that we as parents had pretty much no course but to accept it, we look happy, and healthy, and normal. And Jean caught this because she always, always took photos at shows, and it wasn't restricted to the performers. She documented all of us, as we grew and changed. I was the first band person to become a parent. It's enthralling to see that despite all of what happened with Connor, I still was happy. Happy to be out, happy to share something so important to me with him even though he didn't understand it, happy to have those friends I accidentally came upon by calling a number in the back of a City Paper ad who are now my cornerstone friends.
This picture is going up at home, with his candleholder for the anniversary of his death and then soon after his birthday celebration.
Thanks, Jean, for sending me this important reminder. Also, for his insanely adorable feet in this photo; I want to nibble those toes. Baby feet are the greatest gift.